


This Last Song's a Cover

by augopher



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Musician Stiles, Pack in College, Pining Derek, Post Season 4, Stiles Stilinski Sings, jackson and isaac came back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 10:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2769458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/augopher/pseuds/augopher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack, now in college, is here to support Stiles' band, Burn the Darach, as they play the opener for a big name band. Derek? He didn't even know Stiles was in a band. Seems like something he should know. He's only been secretly in love with the guy.</p><p>But an unorthodox cover song changed all that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Last Song's a Cover

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alisvolatpropiis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisvolatpropiis/gifts).



> Was encouraged to write this one by alisvolatpropiis. 
> 
> Unbeta'd and written pretty quickly. Any and all mistakes are my own..

“Wow, this is a much bigger show than he led me to believe.” Scott said, whistling as the pack walked into the night club. “Seriously, he said it was some little thing. This is a big deal.” He took a moment to get his bearings inside the place. It was nothing like what Stiles described to him over the phone. Above him, an impressive set of stage lights loomed. Definitely better than the one spotlight that the venue of the last show had. He tapped Isaac on the arm and pointed up. “Let’s go upstairs. I bet the view is better.”

A bouncer stopped them at the entrance to the stairs. “Twenty-one and over upstairs. ID’s please.”

“Oh.” Scott felt his face flame. “Never mind then.” He walked with the group towards the stage. “That’s probably a good view.”

They settled in and waited for the show to begin. Scott watched techies running the sound checks and making sure the drum kit was ready.

“Remind me again why we all had to be here?” Jackson groaned. “You know, some of us wouldn't be caught dead at a punk show.”

“Shut up, Jackson.” Scott snapped.

“Look at me, McCall. I am the type of guy punk rockers rally against.”

Isaac picked at his nails. “I thought they wanted to stick it to the establishment.” Jackson glared at him. “I don’t think a nineteen year old qualifies as the establishment. And anyway, they aren’t a punk band. So you have nothing to worry about there.”

Standing off to the far side of the group and feeling like the old man in the group he actually was, Derek smirked as he took a drink from his beer, reveling in the fact that no one else in the pack could have one (Even if the wolves couldn't get the buzz.) If he was being honest with himself (And that’s something he rarely was, honest with himself), he would admit that the butterflies in his stomach were because he wanted to see Stiles, and not just excitement for the show like he’d told everyone else.

Like the rest of the pack, who changed a lot their first semesters in college once the protective cover of parental responsibility had been lifted, Stiles came back over Christmas break with longer hair and a frame which filled out more than Derek would ever admit to liking. It was as though, he went away a kid and came back a man, and out of nowhere Derek found himself trying to contain a simple crush that had long ago blossomed into something a lot more.

Now, here they all were, the week before sophomore year’s Spring Break for most of the pack, down in LA. Why? Because Scott burst into his loft three weeks ago waving tickets around like a maniac…

_…”Come on guys. You have to go! He said this show is a big deal for them.”_

_“But you said the last show you went to was terrible. Why are you subjecting us to that?” Jackson rolled his eyes at Scott over Skype. “I am not driving my ass all the way down to LA for some show in a dive bar. I am a highly tuned machine. I do not belong in dive bars.”_

_“But that last show was all on the venue. Their music was good. Really good.”_

_One by one, the pack succumbed to Scott’s earnest pleas. Derek put up a front that he didn't want to go on principle, when in actuality, he’d been in the moment Scott said they were tickets for Stiles’ band. Derek didn't even know Stiles was in a band. Why in the world did no one in the pack tell him?..._

...He’d tried to push his feelings down to a low simmer where he could ignore them. However, as with most plans, it backfired. The problem with simmering is, the longer something stews, the more it breaks down until it’s changed so much, it’s nothing like it originally was in texture or taste. It just becomes better, and that is where Derek currently found himself, holding the meat of his affection, now fallen off the bone, having ascended to the epitome of tenderness.

_Jesus Derek? Food analogies? You are hopeless._

Why did he do it? Simple. There was no way Stiles was interested in him, not like that anyway. The guy had been in love with Lydia forever, then dated Malia, and some girl for a couple months in freshman year. Yeah, Derek was pretty damn sure he fit nowhere in the Stiles attraction equation, and it stung.

A lot.

“Is this a three band show?” Lydia asked. “Or is it just Burn the Darach and then Einstein’s Burial?”

Scott looked at his ticket stub. “Just the two.”

Jackson still had not given into the fact that seeing this show was a thing that would happen no matter how much he protested. “Who the hell is Einstein’s Burial and why should we care?”

“Um Jackson? Their song ‘Hour of the Riot’ is all over the radio now.”

“I hate that song. How did Stilinski and his lame ass band get the opener spot then?”

“Won a battle of the bands contest on campus. Beat out like fifty something other bands. Now shut up. The show’s about to start.”

As they did with every concert Derek had ever been to, and he’d been to a lot (Laura had been a huge fan of live music), the house lights dimmed as the band entered. If Stiles, true to nature, hadn't stumbled over a cord on his way to the microphone, Derek wouldn't have believed the guy was even up there. Hold the phone--Stiles was their vocalist?

Derek was going to make an ass of himself, he just knew it.

He’d managed to keep his bisexuality a secret from the rest of the pack (It was none of their business), but when it came to men, musicians just did things to him. He took a drink of his beer to keep from making what he was sure to be embarrassing noises.

His plan went right out the window when the stage lights came up. A long time devotee of skinny jeans, Stiles looked like the pair he wore now had been painted on. How was that even fair? Derek wanted to bang his head against a wall. And that tight t-shirt? When did the guy get shoulders like that? Where were the layers of flannel? And yeah, that a hint of a tattoo sticking out from under the sleeve? _Just kill me now._ Just to make things worse, the beautiful bastard was wearing eyeliner. Okay so yeah, Derek was in love with the guy, but right now, he just wanted to fuck him senseless.

In short, Derek was a goner.

When the music started, if someone had asked Derek what he thought, he wouldn't have been able to say anything. No, he’d been too fixated on Stiles, the way his lips looked fucking sinful when he sang, the gravel and growl in his voice, the way his eyes flirted with the audience. Derek wasn't an idiot, he knew how much a person could grow up and change that first year of college. Hell, he probably would have too if the fire hadn’t stunted him in place for so long. So it would have been ignorant to believe Stiles wouldn’t have done the same, but this, him on stage was something altogether different. It was like he just came alive up there, all that awkwardness hidden behind a mic stand and a guitar...and oh sweet Jesus. Derek had never seen anything as hot as the way those hands looked as they attacked the strings.

Derek wanted to die. Leave it to him to fall in love with someone, the only person he really trusted in years only to be the wrong fucking gender for the object of his affections. How was this Derek’s life?

“So, thanks for coming tonight. That last song was our most popular one, called ‘The Villain Wearing My Face.’ Once again, we’re Burn the Darach and if you’ve like what you’ve heard, please see Jessica over there at our merch table. We usually like to end our shows with a cover. So this will be no different. Now our bassist, Eric, the asshole bet me $500 I wouldn’t sing this song. To that, I say ‘Fuck you. I don’t have $500 dollars to spare, and I don’t go down that easy’.”

Derek paused, mid-drink, when Stiles, honest to God, winked, whether at him or just the audience near him, he didn’t know. Oh wait, yes he did. Derek was surrounding by attractive women. How stupid of him to think Stiles would be showing him, _him_   of all people that kind of attention.

_Oh grow up, Derek. You big baby._

"Let's be honest, the original lyrics...well I think it’s a terrible song." He gestured to the rest of the band "We all hate it. So yeah, I took a lot of liberties with the lyrics. Didn't run them by the guys first either. Honestly, I think its an improvement."

Derek definitely choked on his beer when the open bars to the song started playing. Now the guy was just being cruel. By the time Stiles started singing, Derek wanted to run away and hide in a hole for the rest of his life.

 

_“This was never the way I planned, not my intention._

_I got so brave, drink in hand, lost my discretion_

_You weren't what I was used to, just wanted to try you out._

_I was hungry for you, caught my attention._

_I kissed a boy and I liked it,_

_the taste of his cherry chapstick._

_I kissed a boy just to try it,_

_I know my girlfriend didn't mind it._

_Didn't feel wrong,_

_it felt so right._

_Didn't fall in love that night._

_I kissed a boy and I liked it (I liked it).”_

Derek couldn’t breathe. Was he hearing what he thought he was hearing? Nope, he had to be projecting.

 

_“Now, I didn't even know his name, it didn't matter._

_He was my educational gain, learned my true nature._

_It wasn't what good boys do, not how they should behave._

_My head was not confused, not hard to obey._

 

Derek wanted to melt into a puddle the floor. If this was just done as a joke...No, Stiles had purposefully changed the words. It had to mean something, and a small glimmer of hope began to build in the pit of his stomach.

 

_“Some boys they are so magical,_

_Stubble, but soft lips, so kissable._

_Hard to resist, so touchable._

_Too good to deny it._

_Ain't no big deal, s'not indecent.”_

 

The last word of the bridge came in a scream, the growling kind only found in rock music; it made Derek’s dick strain against his pants. Fucking hell, he was done for. Now all he could think about was if and when he could get Stiles to make that same growl in bed.

“Thank you; you’ve been great! We’re Burn the Darach. Sit tight for Einstein’s Burial.”

Frozen in place, Derek couldn’t move. Stiles had sung most of that song looking straight at him. That was a declaration not a joke.

“What did you think?” Scott asked.

He blinked. “I’m sorry what?”

“Did you like it? You’ve hardly said a word all night. I just figured this wasn’t your type of thing.”

“I love concerts. They were really good.” That was it. That was the only coherent thought he could form.

The crowd around them thinned out as patrons went outside during the changeover to smoke, grab another round, or wait in line forever for the bathrooms. They all dispersed, and Derek couldn’t move--the opposite of time freezing in place around him. Everything around him kept moving, and he was stuck, the way he always was.

“That was sick, man. Sounds so much better in a good venue.” Scott clapped Stiles on the back.

“Good acoustics make a shit-ton of difference.” He said.

The sound of Stiles voice, snapped Derek from his stupor. He looked up to see the t-shirt replaced with a new one, just as tight, clinging to his chest. Stage lights produced a lot of heat, or so he heard.

“Hey Derek.”

“Stiles. Good show.” That was it? A million different words on his tongue and all he could say was ‘good show?’

_You are a total failure, Derek._

“Thanks.”

“Glad you could make it.” He said more to the whole pack than Derek alone.

“Loved the last song.” Derek said, his voice cracking.

His words caught Stiles’ attention, and the man moved closer. “Liked that did you?” Derek nodded. “It was for you, you know? All for you. There was no bet.”

“What?” Derek felt all the blood drain from his face.

“Thought I would put you out of your misery and make my own declaration.”

“You knew?”

“I’m nothing if not observant. And you were never, never, never going to get your head out of your ass and make a move.”

“It’s not that. I...I thought you… didn’t-”

Stiles grabbed the front of Derek’s jacket and pulled him flush against his body. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

That puddle Derek wanted to melt into? Yeah, it had nothing on how good it felt to have Stiles lips on his. That frozen in place sensation he’d been wallowing in minutes earlier felt so much better this way, even if the soundtrack to their first kiss was a rousing chorus of wolf whistles..

  


**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, the cover song is "I Kissed a Girl" by Katy Perry, with lyrics amended by yours truly to serve as a coming out song instead.


End file.
